Unquenchable
by CodeAliasWave
Summary: In The End, Gambit thought he died. Yet he somehow made it back. Now faced living without Rogue, how can he handle his grief and raise their kids? Isn't an angry 12 year old bad enough without blame for his mother's death? Or how about a daughter who thinks she's forgetting her mother? Is Rogue really lost forever? All he knows is that life wasn't supposed to be this way. One Shot.


**Disclaimer:**

**Marvel owns all.**I've just invited them over to my house to play.

**A/N:**

This is an aftermath of _X-Men: The End_ and the two _GeNext_ series with an offhanded reference to _X-treme X-Men #18_. You just need to know the main plot of these comics to get this. But if you're a Romy fan, you should definitely pick up these issues. Marble (as far as I know) is a character I made up.

**Thanks**

To my beta, FaeMarked, who started Twilight fics but never got around to posting (or finishing, hint hint). Thank you for indulging my resurging X-Men craze!**  
**

**Unquenchable**

Lightning streaked across the sky a second before the crashing thunder. Remy LeBeau stood on the balcony of his suite at the Jean Grey Institute, the overhang mostly shielding him from the windy torrent. Still, he pulled the collar of his trench up a little higher around his neck as he inhaled from his cigarette.

Earlier, he'd stood out in the full force of the rain for a moment before stepping back to light his tobacco fix. His soaking hair now dripped down his neck while tiny rivulets streamed across his face to cling to his week old stubble. It seemed like every time it rained now he took the opportunity to grieve his losses. It was a good way to hide the tears he didn't want anyone to see.

If he didn't know for sure Stormy was gone, he'd swear the bad weather was due to her ill mood too. But she was lucky. Wherever his friends and family were now, Logan and Storm were together among them.

Taking another drag from his cigarette, he nearly choked on it when he heard the panicked, "Papa! Papa!"

He'd left the glass door cracked just in case something like this happened. He exhaled the smoke before dropping the butt and stubbing it out. A breath of fresh air tried to chase away the nicotine in his lungs. Rogue would kill him if she knew he had picked up the habit she'd broken him of ages ago. Funny how she was the ending and beginning of his smoking.

"PAPA!" The small voice cried from the suite's second bedroom.

Remy shrugged out of his wet coat as he picked up the pace to rush inside.

"Shh! Shh. I'm here. Now what's all dis cryin' 'bout, hm?" He asked as he took a seat on the edge of the young girl's bed.

"Becka's just bein' a crybaby, _P__è__re_. I tol' her t' grow up already." Spat a boy shaped lump under the covers in the next bed.

"Oli, dat's no way t' talk t' yo' _sœur_." Remy chided. With patience, he turned back to Becka. "What's wrong, _petite_."

"The thunder woke me up an' ya weren't there when Ah called ya!" Big crocodile tears ran down her face between snotty sniffles. "Mama was always here before the thunder started."

"See, that's why I tol' her t' grow up! She needs t' learn Mama ain' ever comin' back!" Oli shouted as he threw back the covers and sat up.

"Olivier!" Remy chastised before sweeping the girl up in his arms, holding her close as he soothed her with a hug. "I'm here now, _petite_."

He rubbed gentle circles up and down her back as he closed his eyes to the torment. Becka looked so much like her mother. The only difference was that her hair was the same shade as his. Though his friends and family swore up and down she looked just like him, all he could see were the bright green eyes and shining white halo in her hair that reflected his beloved Rogue and made it hard for him to look at her sometimes.

As her fat tears soaked into the collar of his shirt, her sniffles began to subside. Remy continued to hold her close, but Oli just rolled his eyes , huffed in disgust, and thumped back down on his bed. He purposely faced away from them.

It was true that Oli hadn't handled Rogue's death well. In fact, he'd made it quite obvious a few days ago that he blamed Remy for not saving her.

"_If ya really loved Mom, ya never would've followed Sinister. She never would've even been there if it hadn't been for _you_!" Oli shouted._

_It was actually a thought that had been tormenting him the whole time. "What was I s'pose t' do, Oli? Let him take y' an' Becka?"_

"_Ya coulda stayed an' fought. Like Mom would've." The fight was already leaving him and Remy could tell he was on the verge of a breakdown._

"_An' what if I had died fightin', hm? Y'd still be wit' Sinister an' no one on de inside t' help yo' _Mère_. Den both yo' parents would be dead." Remy countered, but knew it was hopeless to argue battle tactics with his twelve year old._

"_Nuh-uh, because Mom wouldn've stopped till we were safe." The hero worship shone brightly in his eyes._

"_Yo' _Mère_ was a great many things, but immortal wasn' one o' 'em." He left unsaid the fact that Rogue would have eventually died fighting too._

_Unable to come up with a convincing rebuttal, Oli vehemently whispered, "I wish _you _were dead instead of _her_!" The stomped back to his shared room where Becka had been crying since the argument started._

_As soon as the door slammed, Remy whispered, "So do I."_

The argument still plagued Remy. He already had enough self-hatred that he didn't need the bitter grief and condemnation of his children added to the mix. It didn't help that they didn't have a body to bury. Granted, Remy coordinated the full funeral, casket and all. But he'd told the children the casket had to remain closed so as not to disturb their mother's peacefulness. It was a cover for the fact the box was empty.

After the burial at their home in Valle Soleada, he'd taken the children to the temporary facilities for the Jean Grey Institute. It was too hard to stay in the home he and Rogue had made together. But with his father and brother long gone, New Orleans wasn't home either. So he'd taken them to the only other place he knew.

A lot of people ended up back at the Institute. Everyone who had anyone left was blaming themselves for the way things went down. Maybe if they hadn't become so complacent in peace times. Maybe if they'd trained that extra bit harder. Maybe if their security had been just that little bit stronger. There were a million 'what ifs' torturing all of them.

All of them except Emma and Scott.

At one point, Remy had thought himself dead or at least a goner. And yet he'd made it out alive. He wasn't the only one in such a predicament. But somehow in the scuffle of it all, Scott and Emma had each other and their family intact.

With his daughter still in his arm, Remy had to hold back the urge to express his resentment, especially since his children were still alive because of Megan Summers. It was her already manifested mutation that bought them all enough time to safely rescue the kids.

Thankfully, his caustic thoughts were interrupted by his daughter's squirming.

"Papa, Ah'm forgettin' Mama." Becka plaintively cried.

"What now? Y' ain' forgettin' her. Y'll never _forget_ her." Remy tried to soothe.

Instead, the little girl pulled out of his arms to look into his eyes. With all the earnestness of an innocent child, she said, "No, Papa, Ah am. Ah really am."

"Do y' remember her readin' y' bedtime stories?" He started with broad memories.

"Uh-huh." She confirmed.

"Or how 'bout when she burned de cookies she'd been makin' y' for yo' first day back t' school?"

"The whole kitchen was full o' black smoke!" For the first times in weeks, she laughed a little.

"An' what 'bout when she tried t' help Marble control her mutation an' ended up wit' pink hair an' orange skin for a week?" He asked.

A muffled snort sounded from across the room and he knew Oli wasn't ignoring them half as much as he was pretending.

"She was really cold an' hard when she gave us hugs that week." Becka recalled.

"Den see? Y' ain' forgettin' yo' _Mère_." Remy consoled her as she snuggled back against his neck. "As long as y' keep those memories close t' yo' heart, yo' _Mère_ will always be wit' y'."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own memories of Rogue. Remy never realized how she was the glue that made their family stick together. Without her, _he_ had to fill her place and his own. It was a daunting task alone by itself, but having to do it while wanting nothing more than for her to be by his side made it so much harder.

"What was Mama like?" Becka broke his thoughts.

"Y' know what yo' _Mère_ was like." Remy absently brushed away the question.

Becka looked up at him, but stayed glued to his chest. "No, what was Mama like before Oli an' me?"

"Hnh." He breathed out, unintelligible.

The question took him by surprise. Their life stopped being about just the two of them the day Rogue found out she was pregnant. Since then, he'd focused on taking care of the three of them. Sure, there were times when it was just he and his wife with no kids in sight. But even then, they both kept their children in their thoughts while they were away. There was no more just him and her. And it'd been a long time since he thought back to the days when they were running from each other, or when he was trying to win her over, or when she was pulling him back, even from the verge of death.

"Yo' _Mère_…" He trailed off, trying to focus. "Yo' _Mère_ was pretty much de same before y' were born. Stubborn, passionate, loyal. She made me chase her for a long time before I finally caught her." Remy looked down at her with a wink.

"Sounds like Mama." Becka agreed. "Did ya love her at first sight?" She asked, full of a Disney Princess kind of hope.

Remy chuckled at her sweet innocence. "No, it wasn' like dat."

"So what was it like?" Becka prodded.

"It was de first mission dat she really got hurt more den a few scratches. She was blind for a little while, but I thought she was hurt a lot worse. Made me realize she was more than just a-" He cut himself off, censoring his less than pure image of their mother. "-'nother friend. Dat she was special."

"I bet Mama fell in love with ya first." Oli snidely remarked, finally contributing to the conversation.

"Actually, I think she did. But she also broke my heart more times den I can count." His wry smile provided a little insight into the regret over all the time they wasted not trusting one another.

"So if ya didn't love Mama at first sight, what _did_ ya think when ya first saw her?" Becka asked, unaware of what her question really meant.

"He probably thought he'd like t' screw he-" Oli almost finished the sentence before Remy interrupted.

"-Oli, language!" He chastised his son, not realizing he already knew about that topic.

They'd have to have 'the talk' soon, especially considering that Remy himself was not much older than Olivier when he had his first sexual encounter.

"What? I'm just tellin' the truth." Oli forlornly said before turning his sarcasm back at his sister. "Don'cha know Becka? _Père_ was a big playboy back in the day. Probly cheated on Mom, too."

"OLI!" Remy shouted, his eyes taking on an eerie glow from fighting to keep his anger in check. "Let's get _une_ thing straight right now. I never, _never_, cheated on yo' _Mère_. Dere were times we broke up an' dated other people. But every time she an' I were t'gether, we were committed t' only each other."

There was a tense silence in the room as Remy tried to settle down. His daughter curled closer into his chest, some sniffles starting all over again. Oli stared straight back at his father, the fear from seeing his father's anger evident in his expression. Sure there'd been punishment in the past. And Remy had even blown a gasket a time or two with some of the things Oli did. But he'd never been so mad as to make his children afraid of him.

He was about to apologize for the outburst when Becka piped up. "Papa? Why would ya wanna screw Mama? Wouldn't it've hurt when ya put the screwdriver on her? And where's the little notch ya put the screwdriver in anyway?"

The naivety of her statement had him chuckling again. "It's not like dat, _petite_. I'll tell y' when yo' older."

"I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean what I said." Oli said with genuine remorse.

"I know, Oli." Remy easily forgave him.

It wasn't but a second later that Oli was flinging himself in his father's arms, squeezing in some space Becka wasn't already taking up. "I miss Mama."

"So do I. So do we all." He answered with a strong hug.

As the storm finally started to die down, Remy patted each of their shoulders as an indication that it was time to get down. "C'mon _chiots_. Y' been up long 'nough. Need t' get some more sleep." He said as he laid Becka back down in her bed.

"But we're not…tired." Oli half-heartedly argued with a big yawn while climbing into his own bed.

"Sure y' ain'." He countered and pulled Becka's blankets up to her neck. She was already fading fast when he kissed her forehead.

Needing a little reassurance, she threw her arms around his neck. "Night, Papa."

"_Bonne nuit, mon chou_." Remy gave her an extra kiss on the cheek before turning to Oli. "_Bonne nuit, mon fils." _He tousled his boy's hair a bit.

With his heart mended a little, some of the anger and grief Oli had pent up inside faded away some. He suddenly sat up and threw his arms around Remy's neck as well. "Night, _Père_."

Walking over to the open doorway, Remy reached for their nightlight. He glanced at his children one more time before switching it off and closing the door. In the living area, he stood motionless for a moment before heading to the cold master bedroom.

Remy didn't bother to turn the light on as he expertly moved through the darkened room to shed his clothes. Once down to his boxers, he pulled the covers back on the side of the bed closest to the door. It had always been his side, even during the times when Rogue was stronger and more indestructible than he. Call it a silly tradition, but he didn't feel like a man if he wasn't the one protecting his wife from any possible intruders at the door.

Lying down, he tried to relax on his back, but was unsuccessful at finding peace. He'd always curled his body around Rogue's when they slept. Since he returned without her, he'd slept every night on his side facing away from her spot. But tonight felt different.

Rolling over, he faced the empty, perfectly made sheets where she once would have laid. He slid his hand across the chilly fabric before coming to rest on the pillow. There was no trace of her scent here. It was one reason why he'd had to get out of the house in Valle Soleada. She was everywhere in that place. It was their home. And he'd been terrified to wash the sheets, as if it would wash away every trace that she'd ever existed on this world.

"I miss y', _mon c__œ__ur._ Every damn minute. Not fair dat y' got t' pull me back but I couldn' return de favor." Remy whispered to her empty space. A deviant tear leaked out of his eye.

As expected, he received no answer. Not that he honestly expected her to have some miraculous way to communicate with him. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep himself. His hand never moved away from her pillow. And with the last cusp of consciousness, he thought he heard the wind whisper '_Remy'_.

**(X)**

Remy awoke in the morning without ceremony. One moment he was asleep and with a blink of his eyes, he was suddenly awake. His body ached a little from the position he'd slept in the night before. His hand still rested on the pillow where Rogue would have slept.

Without any further delay, he rolled out of bed. The action caused his muscles to protest and a weariness to set deep in his bones. Padding over to the en suite bathroom, he flicked on the light above the mirror. In the blinding brightness, he was surprised to see a much younger version of himself staring back at him. He brought his hand up to his chin, seeing only shades of chocolate brown in his beard instead of snowy white. Leaning closer to the mirror, his fingers pulled at his eyes only to see the crow's feet and laugh lines were missing. Even the weathered skin on his hands showed no signs of aging.

Remy quickly pulled his hand down to look at his hands directly instead of through the reflection of the mirror. A glance confirmed the condition he expected to see: the skin was paler and looser, his bones and tendons stood out, a few darker spots mottled the surface.

Unable to reconcile the younger reflection with his older self, he looked back into the mirror only to draw in a sharp breath.

"Anna!" His voice croaked, unused from sleep and the passage of time.

Standing behind him, almost in shadow, was the woman he'd fallen in love with so many years ago. He spun around as fast as he could, but no one was there. With a shake of his head, he determined his old eyes were playing tricks on him. Turning back to the mirror, he saw her standing there yet again.

As he watched, she stepped out of the shadows. "It's really me, Rem. And it's time ta come home."

Through the reflection, he saw her reach a hand out to rest on his shoulder. Closing his eyes, he could almost imagine the weight and feel of her skin against his. He had too many memories of their time together to not know what she felt like. He even imagined her adding pressure to get him to turn around.

Obliging her request, he spun in place but kept his eyes closed. It had been years since he'd been able to do that without feeling dizzy. The thought was quickly replaced when he imagined her fingers threading through his thick hair, her lips pressing against his. When he did nothing more than enjoy the daydream, she ended the kiss to move her lips by his ear.

"Open yer eyes, Remy." Rogue whispered.

With his heart pounding in his chest, he refused for a moment. This was the most lucid dream he'd had of her and he didn't want to lose what little bit he'd regained. But her hands slid down his jaw, her thumbs brushing the delicate skin under his eyes. The sensation was too real to ignore and with a blink, he gasped back the shock for a second time.

"Ah told ya, but ya always did have a hard time believin' me. Why do ya think Ah changed our vows? There was no way Ah was gonna let a li'l ol' thing like Death or Time separate us." Her bright green eyes sparkled with mirth.

The whole situation was so surreal that it left Remy speechless. All he could manage was, "How?"

"Like Ah said, Remy. It's time ta come home." She said.

Her thumbs continued to rub his cheeks as she leaned in to press another kiss to his lips. Then she reached down to grasp one of his hands in hers as she led him away from the bathroom. When the bed came into sight, Remy stopped in his tracks.

There, asleep in the bed with his hand still resting on the other pillow, was the version of himself he expected to see in the mirror this morning: the thinning hair was sleep tussled; the scruffy beard was snowy white; the loose skin was unearthly pale.

Sensing his hesitation, Rogue turned back to him. "It's okay, sugar. Becka'll be here in a li'l while with Jay Paul." When he didn't move, she continued: "Remember? Ya were goin' ta her place because Oli an' Megan are in town. She thought it would be a good time ta get all the grandkids tagether with their _Grand-père_."

"They need me." Remy answered.

He'd been the sole caretaker for his children for so long that he was afraid of leaving them behind. Even when presented with the love of his life in exchange.

"They have each other, sug." Turning his face to meet her eyes, she said, "Ah haven't had ya in a long time. _Ah_ need ya, now."

Realizing what she spoke was the truth, Remy nodded his head. The million watt smile from Rogue helped him feel like the younger self he saw in the mirror. And when she threw herself into his arms, he felt the strength return to his body as if no time had passed since the moment he'd first laid eyes on her.

"I love y', _ch__é__rie_." He said as he buried his nose in her hair. "I never stopped lovin' y'."

"Ah know, Remy. Ah love ya too." She answered as her grip on him grew tighter.

Content to just be in one another's arms, they stood in the embrace as his mouth crashed down on hers. Her soft skin was pliant and willing under his skilled hands. Her teeth grazed his lip as she exchanged nips with his teasing tongue. Their passion quickly grew out of silence to needy moans. When she felt his hands land on her hips, she reluctantly pulled away.

"We have ta leave, but don't worry. It's a short trip." Rogue winked as she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bright morning light shining in through the balcony door.

Remy took one last look at himself before following her through the blinding whiteness. It was the end of one adventure, but the start of another. And he couldn't say he'd change anything about either.

**-(X)-**

**Translations:**

_sœur _– sister

_chiots – _pups

_Bonne nuit, mon chou – _Good night, my cabbage (French pet name)

_Bonne nuit, mon fils – _Good night, my son

_mon c__œ__ur – _my heart


End file.
